Glimpses Of A Time Long Gone
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. Five ficlets that focus on Prowl's childhood. Because even Prowl was once a sparkling.
1. Tired

_Prowl's age in human years: 1-year-old _

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"Prowl?"

The small black and white sparkling lifted his gaze at the sound of the familiar voice. Sure enough, the mechanism he identified as mother was standing at the doorstep of his room, looking at him with a small smile on her lips.

"What are you doing there, little one?" she asked, walking up to him. "Don't you know it's late?"

Uh oh. Prowl had come to know only too well what his mother meant whenever she said that, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Not tired," he mildly protested, putting his brand new vocaliser in good use.

"Oh, I think using your toys as headrest qualifies as tired," she answered with a chuckle. She picked him up in her arms and placed a small peck on his cheek. "Come on. Let's go."

Prowl crossed his arms and turned his head away from his mother in a pouting manner.

She just laughed a bit. "That's not going to work either, little one."

Prowl sighed in defeat. Honestly, he hated going to sleep. He had to see things, explore, understand and apply reason to everything that was going on around him. How was he to do that from his berth, recharging?

Fortunately, he discovered a trick some time ago. One that he always put to good use whenever both his parents retired to their own berth. One that never failed him no matter how many times his mother tried to catch him in the act, or how many times his father changed the sparkling-sized berth in the belief that _that _was the so-called problem.

And, tonight, he was going to do it again. He bore with stoicism his mother placing him on the berth, and then he watched her carefully as she made sure the rails around him were secure. After all, the rails had to be locked in place so that Prowl wouldn't accidentally fall off his berth while recharging.

It was also a very important part of Prowl's escape trick.

So, Prowl lay perfectly still while his mother was in the room. He waited patiently for her to exit and turn off the light, and then turned up his audio receptors to listen to the footsteps fading away in the distance.

Five minutes later, he decided he could go for it. Gripping the rails tightly, he climbed over them with experienced ease and then let go. It wasn't a long way to jump, so he wasn't afraid. Nevertheless, he never liked that last part because the landing hurt his behind a little.

A small price for the fun he was going to have afterwards.

With that in mind, he headed for his toys and picked up the holopad with the animals of Cybertron in it.

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"He did it again."

Swiftstrike woke up at the sound of her bondmate's voice. Blinking in surprise, she noticed that it was quite early in the morning, and the sunlight was slowly creeping inside the room.

Jetcloud wasn't in their room, though. In fact, the light blue femme could see him standing on the doorstep of Prowl's room, leaning against the frame.

Swiftstrike sighed, for she quickly understood what the problem was. She got out of the berth and walked up to Jetcloud so she could have a look at their son too.

Just as she had expected, Prowl was curled on his side in deep recharge, both little hands clasping weakly his favourite holopad.

Jetcloud shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in mild frustration. "I love him, Swiftstrike. Primus, I love him, but I wish he cut that out. How does he do it anyway?"

"Don't, dear," she said simply, squeezing Jetcloud's hand in hers with a small smile. "You'll only get your computer crashed again."

And with that, she picked up the recharging sparkling in her arms and placed him back on the berth for some proper rest this time.


	2. Wings

Prowl was playing with his mother when he heard it. Turning up his audio receptors, he got so focused on the strange noise that the small ball Swiftstrike tossed to him bounced by without him noticing.

"What's the matter, Prowl?" Swiftstrike asked, surprised to see her sparkling so alert. "What is it?"

Prowl didn't answer. He simply pushed himself to his feet and hurried to the window.

He felt his optics widening when he realised that that noise was coming from the sky. He looked up and – how strange! – he could easily see something glinting up there, moving in circles, going up and down, even doing loop-de-loops.

Prowl couldn't understand it. What was that thing, and how could it stay up in the air like that? As far as he knew, everything fell down, just like the ball his mother kept tossing during their games.

A chuckle reached his audios, making little Prowl understand that his mother was right beside him.

"That's a turbo-duck," his mother said. "You heard it quacking, didn't you?"

Oh, that was right. Prowl had heard about turbo-ducks before. He always liked looking at them in his holopad and just staring at their pretty colours. But he had never expected them to sound so strange, and he certainly didn't know that they could… well, do _that_.

"Why is it up?" he asked, looking at his mother.

"It's flying," Swiftstrike said with a smile.

"Oh." Prowl processed the new information, committing it to his vocabulary databanks. "How?"

She patted his helm with a smile. "With its wings. Everything that has wings flies. Do you understand?"

Prowl nodded enthusiastically, happy to acquire that new knowledge. That certainly made his mother happy too, because she laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll go prepare your midday ration," she declared. "Are you coming?"

"All right," Prowl answered. He was getting hungry, after all, so the prospect of a meal seemed perfect right now. He followed his mother, his steps eager and rapid as he tried to keep up with her.

Just then, another thought occurred to him. If everything that had wings flew, could that mean…?

He froze, thought about it for a minute, and then turned around at once. He had to find out.

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The first thing that warned Swiftstrike that something didn't feel right was when she didn't register Prowl's pattering feet behind her. She spun around, only to verify that Prowl really wasn't following her.

"Prowl?"

She didn't get an answer. She waited for a moment, hoping that the little one would show up eventually.

He didn't.

"Prowl?" Deciding to get to the bottom of this, Swiftstrike retraced her steps and went back into Prowl's room.

She entered just in time to see her sparkling on the top of the large datacase in his room… and about to jump.

"Prowl!" she exclaimed in horror, but it was too late. The sparkling leapt forward, his arms outstretched and his optics closed. It took all of the femme's speed to lunge and catch the little one before he hit the floor.

A minute passed, then two, yet neither of them moved. Swiftstrike still held Prowl in her arms, frozen, resembling some sort of a strange statue.

Five minutes later, both femme and sparkling dared to open their optics and look at each other. They blinked just for a moment and, finally, Swiftstrike found the power to speak.

"Prowl… will you _please_, for the love of Primus, tell me _what _were you thinking?" She did her best not to let any of her anger seep into her words, but it proved hard. She had to believe that there was a good reason behind Prowl's recklessness, or she would lose her temper for sure.

Prowl hung his head in shame, clearly sensing that Swiftstrike was upset. "Wanted to fly," he said, his tone barely a mumble.

Swiftstrike frowned. "What are you talking about? You can't--"

She never finished her sentence, because it was then that she made the connection. She groaned in mild frustration, scarcely believing that she had made such a blunder.

Well, since she had caused that mess, it was high time she corrected it, too.

"Prowl…" she said, cupping the little one's chin in calming reassurance. "We need to talk about the difference between wings and doors."


	3. Funny

Swiftstrike stretched the lines of her neck with a small wince. She had been stooping in the same position for hours on end, and yet the model building she was working on was far from finished. Even worse, the deadline was the day after tomorrow and the last thing she wanted was to miss it. At times like these, the job of an architect was very, _very _bothersome.

She was about to start working again, when she felt a small hand patting her thigh. Surprised, Swifstrike turned around to see that it was Prowl, and the sparkling was doing his best to stifle a series of giggles ready to flow out of his lip components.

"What is it, Prowl? You know I don't like to be interrupted from my work," she said patiently.

"Father's funny again," Prowl explained, giggling.

_Oh, dear…_ Swiftstrike sighed, for she knew what Prowl meant when Jetcloud was 'funny'. She stood up in a weary manner and took Prowl by the hand.

"Come on. Let's have a look at your father."

Sure enough, she found Jetcloud in Prowl's room, but her bondmate hardly acknowledged her. The mech was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his left optic twitching on its own accord.

Swiftstrike faced her sparkling, resting a hand on her hip. "How many questions did you ask him _this _time?"

Prowl grinned broadly. "500."

_A new record,_ she thought wryly before walking up to Jetcloud to fix his computer crash.

"You know, Prowl," she said, a hint of a tease in her voice. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are doing it on purpose."

Prowl only grinned even more broadly, fluttering his door panels in an innocent manner.

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_A/n: Mischievous Prowl is mischievous. ;)_


	4. Sick

If there was one thing that Swiftstrike and Jetcloud were well aware of, it was that raising sparklings wasn't easy in the least. Sparklings were energetic, loud and, moreover, _very _susceptible to viruses. And Prowl wasn't an exception to that rule.

Swiftstrike leaned over the sparkling-sized berth, where Prowl was curled on his side. She caressed his back soothingly, her light fingers stroking the little one's door-panels.

"Prowl? Are you feeling any better?"

Prowl rolled over on his back weakly, lifting his gaze listlessly to his mother. "No," he said, his voice almost failing him.

Swiftstrike sighed and picked up Prowl gently. She winced when she felt the sparkling's overheated forehead, but there wasn't much she could do. The medic told her that, though the particular virus wasn't dangerous, it was very complicated too. That meant it would take some time before he could create another firewall for Prowl, so he advised Swiftstrike and Jetcloud to keep the sparkling as comfortable as possible until he came back with the cure. Hopefully, by the end of the week, Prowl would be up and about once again. Swiftstrike just hoped that the medic was right.

"Here, I brought you the special energon," Jetcloud said, holding an energon-filled cube in his hand. "How is he?"

"Same as before," she replied sadly. She took the cube and held it close to Prowl's lips. "Here you go, Prowl. Have a sip of this."

Prowl let out a whining noise and tried to push the cube away.

Swiftstrike heaved another sigh. This was going to prove difficult.

"Prowl, we've already talked about this. You need to eat, and the good doctor said that this is the only kind of energon that won't upset your insides," she said. "Now go on. If you drank it once, you can drink it again."

Prowl pursed his lips stubbornly and shook his head.

"Prowl…" Swiftstrike said in a warning tone.

"It tastes like slag!" the sparkling exclaimed indignantly.

Swiftstrike stared at her son incredulously.

"Where did you pick up that kind of language?" she asked. "Certainly not from your mother." She turned to Jetcloud, shooting him a very angry glare.

The black and golden mech grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

She shook her head and pressed the cube close to Prowl's lips once more. "Prowl, I'm not going to say it again. You have to drink this."

Prowl looked at her, frustration written all over his young features. Swiftstrike and Jetcloud exchanged a glance, both reaching to the same decision.

"All right, Prowl. If your father and I drink some of this energon, will you drink the rest?"

Prowl blinked a bit, trying to decide. Eventually, he nodded his agreement.

"Good." With that, Swiftstrike held up the cube and took a sip.

She froze, feeling her optics widening.

"Swiftstrike? Is everything all right?" Jetcloud asked.

"Perfect," she replied sweetly, passing the cube to Jetcloud. "Your turn, dear."

Jetcloud frowned a bit, but he figured there was no point in not keeping his promise. At the next moment, his optics widened as well and they locked on his bondmate. However, he quickly composed himself and handed the cube back to her.

Swiftstrike faced Prowl, forcing a smile. "See? Now it's time for you to drink."

Prowl scowled, nevertheless he complied. Once he emptied the cube, Swiftstrike placed Prowl back in his berth for some necessary recharge and, soon enough, the little one was asleep.

Swiftstrike and Jetcloud slipped out of the room without any noise, letting the door close automatically behind them.

"It really tastes like slag," Jetcloud declared mournfully.

"I'll let this one slide only because you're right," Swiftstrike said. She wiped her lip components in a disgusted manner. "Ugh… I'm going to wash my mouth."

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_A/n: Why yes, I enjoy torturing Prowl's parents. Why do you ask? :p_


	5. A Wish

_A/n: __This little ficlet takes place when Prowl is autonomous enough to be left alone for a couple of hours without strict supervision. I suppose his folks figured their son could be trusted. :)._

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Prowl picked up the small holopad, looked at it briefly, and then put it back in its place. The next thing he picked up was his ball, but he let it land on the floor and turned away after tossing it to the wall a couple of times. His cubes formed a semi-built tower that the little one didn't have the spark to finish, while the rest of the toys were abandoned after a few seconds.

Prowl sighed and walked up to the window to have a look at the outside world. The sun was shining brightly, and the buildings were glinting under the sunlight as though they were made of gold. Even so, Prowl couldn't enjoy the view. He rested his elbows against the window pane and placed his chin in his palms with a sigh.

Why was he feeling so miserable? There were times that he could play for hours on end without being bored at all. Now, whenever he picked up one of his toys, he lifted his gaze in search of something he couldn't name, only for his door panels to droop in resignation.

The room felt… empty.

It's not that he didn't try to solve the problem that presented itself. He did. He found out that he was feeling better whenever one, or even both, of his parents were around. So, he tried to keep them in the room as much as possible. Sometimes it worked, but there were also times that neither Swiftstrike nor Jetcloud could stay with him. They had to attend to their work.

That was what happened today as well. So, Prowl was in the house, all alone, having absolutely nothing to do and no one to talk to.

Before he could help it, his thoughts drifted to his friends, and he wondered if they ever felt that way. Probably not, he decided. A couple of his friends certainly didn't, for they were brothers. In fact, they said they never got bored, because they had each other. Prowl felt a pang of jealousy in his spark whenever they said that. He knew he wasn't supposed to feel such a bad thing, but it was hard not to. If he had a brother too, he wouldn't feel so down. Prowl was sure of it.

Maybe… if he asked his parents nicely, they would get him one?

At that thought, his spark lifted and a smile formed on his lip components. He had made up his mind. As soon as his parents came back from work, he would ask. He had nothing to lose.

With that, Prowl continued staring out the window, waiting patiently for Swiftstrike. She was always the first to arrive home.

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Swiftstrike entered her house tiredly. The day at work had been abysmal, and now she wanted nothing more than to sit down and try to relax.

The sound of pattering feet made her smile warmly. It sounded like Prowl had been waiting for the moment the door opened so he could rush to her. Sure enough, Prowl appeared and quickly hugged both of Swiftstrike's legs.

"Missed you," he said softly.

"So I see," Swiftstrike said, looking at him with fondness. She picked him up in her arms and walked into the sitting room. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"That's okay," Prowl replied. "I just…" The sparkling stopped midway, optics lowering as he pondered on something carefully.

"Yes, little one?" she asked, curious to hear what Prowl wanted to say.

Finally, it looked like Prowl decided to go for it. He stared at Swiftstrike straight in the optic and asked, "Mother… Can I have a little brother, please?"

Swiftstrike had to admit that she hadn't expected that question, but, truth be told, perhaps she should have. Prowl had to spend a lot of hours alone at home lately. It was only natural that he craved for some company. And yet…

"I'm afraid we can't give you one right now, Prowl."

Prowl frowned at that. "Why?"

Swiftstrike sat down and nuzzled him affectionately. "Because creating another life is very difficult, little one. That's what makes it so precious. Did you know there was a time your father and I thought we wouldn't have you either?"

Prowl's optics widened at that and he shook his head.

"Well, it's true," Swiftstrike said. "And then I found out that a new spark was created from my bonding with your father, and we were both so overjoyed that your father built a protoform body for you."

"So, can't you create another spark with father?" Prowl asked.

Swiftstrike sighed. "It didn't happen again, little one. And I don't know if it ever will."

"Oh…"

Swiftstrike detected the tone of sadness in Prowl's voice, and she knew that this wouldn't do. She caressed his chevrons with light fingers.

"But… care to tell you a secret?"

Prowl faced his mother, his curiosity piqued.

"They say that, if you want something very much, then you will get your wish one day."

Prowl gasped and stared at the femme. "Really?!"

Swiftstrike smiled broadly. "Really."

Prowl's doors fluttered giddily.

"Then I'll wait! I don't mind waiting!"

"I know, little one," Swiftstrike replied with a soft chuckle and kissed his cheek.

**The End.**

_A/n__: Whether Prowl got his wish or not, I'll leave it up to you. Personally, I like to think that he did, although perhaps not in the way that he had expected. :)_


End file.
